I Remember You
by Jack of the North
Summary: Hermione struggles to find herself. Draco isn't always there to help, dealing with his own issues. Sequel but can be read on its own. If you want to read this but not the first, PM me and I'll give you a summary of Let Me Know.
1. Going home

**A/N A sequel! It's not going to have the same dark evil mood of the last one. It's (hopefully) going to answer some of the questions from the last story. Namely Blaise and what happened there. Also some of Hermione's Draco is a coward issues. **

**So here is the first chapter, I hope you enjoy it. **

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Hermione Malfoy was packed and ready to go. Her clothes were folded neatly in her suitcase, her toiletries packed away, her flowers redistributed to the children's ward and now all she was waiting for was the final all clear from her healer before she could head home. That was the problem though. She didn't know where home was anymore. Was it back with her parents, returning home after her failed marriage? Was it back to Grimmauld Place and Sirius? She just wasn't ready to go there yet and she didn't think Sirius was either. Back to the home she and Draco had created together? If she wasn't ready to deal with her relationship with Sirius then she definitely wasn't ready to deal with Draco. The only real option Hermione was willing to consider was the one that would appease the most people and most importantly, herself. Home to the Burrow. Sometimes she thought of it more as her home then her parents' house. Harry, too, she knew felt the same way. Going home to the Burrow was like returning to your childhood. Just the sight of the place warmed your heart and made you feel safe.

"Mrs Malfoy, the Healer says you are free to go and that he doesn't want to see you in here for many more years unless its to deliver your baby," the nurse laughed and Hermione did too though she did so out of relief. She was finally going home. She picked up her suitcase, accepted the hugs and kisses from the many nurses who had come to bid her farewell and good luck, and proudly walked out of the hospital, into muggle London. How many women can say they beat breast cancer and brain tumors in three months? Dark thoughts of battles and dead bodies crept into her mind but she quickly pushed them away. Today was about celebration and she intended to shout herself a new outfit and demand Ron and Harry take her out to dinner. She hadn't seen much of her family or friends, only the occasional visit as much as they hated it. She had demanded a few months on her own to heal and sort herself out. She didn't know how good an idea it was because three months later she was perfectly healthy physically but emotional she was still as damaged and sick as she was in January. No matter how many nights she spent lying in the dark, trying to sort herself out, she just couldn't. Maybe her brain wasn't back to normal yet but she felt like she didn't have anything left to give. To anyone. She needed some time to be just Hermione. Away from relationships of a sexual nature, away from the guilt. She need time to live like a normal person for five minutes before she could dive into the mess that was her life.

Flooing to the Burrow using the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace, suitcase in one hand, shopping bags in the other, Hermione hoped that it would be a small reception of maybe just Mrs Weasley, Harry and Ron. Ginny was still at school for the next few months and she couldn't wait to lock them in a room and gossip for hours on end. She missed having someone to talk to and she was sure it would help sort everything out.

"Hello?" she called to the empty kitchen. "Mrs Weasley? Ron?" She pushed open the door and headed for the lounge room.

"Surprise!" shouted the group of people appearing out of thin air. "Welcome home!"

Hermione stared in shock at the number of people present. All the Weasleys, Ginny included, Harry, Sirius, Dumbledore, Snape, Draco, Pansy, Luna, Neville, Lupin and Tonks, the list went on. Half her class and most of the order seemed to be there to welcome her home.

Taking them all in, she presently burst into tears, overwhelmed by it all. Harry and Draco were at her side in minutes.

"Sorry," she sobbed into Draco's shirt. "I just need a minute."

"It's okay," Draco soothed as he wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back. Hermione clung to him as if he was a life raft and she was drowning at sea.

"Excuse us for a moment," he said to the stunned room and led her outside into the gardens and over to an old bench. The sun was shining brightly but there was still a cool breeze in the air.

"I can't believe you're here. At the Weasely's," Hermione said when she had calmed down. She shielded her eyes from the sun and leaned into him, her back to his front. "I'm surprised Potter isn't following no further then three feet behind," Draco joked.

"It will take a while, but they will trust you eventually."

Draco moved her so she was facing him.

"So should I make the effort? To get them to trust me?" he asked, searching her face for answers.

"I can't answer that yet Draco," she said, responding to his unspoken question. He pursed his lips and Hermione laughed. She ran a finger along them and then leaned forward and gave him a chaste kiss.

"I think I'm ready to go back inside."

He looked as if he was going to say something but changed his mind and led her back inside.

* * *

"Did you have a nice time?" Narcissa asked from the head of the table.

"Peachy," Draco said darkly, gesturing to a house elf to refill his glass.

"I hope you played nice with all the little weasels," Narcissa smirked. "Or you will never win her back."

"She's my wife, I don't see why I should have to win her back at all," Draco grumbled, downing his wine and grabbing the bottle off the trembling little elf. He was frustrated. Very. He thought he would have Hermione back in his bed in his house by now but she had refused to see anyone during her treatment, except for the weekly visits on Sundays. And even then she would only see everyone at once for an hour only so he never got any time alone with her.

"She was brought up a muggle, Draco. You know this. I don't think she will understand if you just kidnap her and chain her to the bed for a month." Narcissa's eyes went dreamy, as if she was recalling a long forgotten memory.

"Speaking from experience Mother?" Draco asked, looking his mother over carefully. She was always a thin woman but three months after killing her husband her robes hung off her bony frame and more often then not the food on her plate was left untouched but the bottle of wine before her would be emptied.

"Your father always got what he wanted," she said simply, smiling sadly. "I'm going to retire for the night, Draco. Good night."

"Night," he said, watching her leave the room. Her once proud posture was gone, her shoulders sagged and she hung her head where before she would never bow to anyone, Lucius being the exception to that rule.

Draco knew his mother carried a great deal of guilt over killing his father. The way Hermione and her told it though if she hadn't have done it, Hermione would be dead now. He didn't blame his mother in the slightest but he was regretful that him and his father didn't get to sort things out between them before they died. He was a heartless bastard but he was still Draco's father.

Draco poured the last of his wine and meandered out to the terrace to look over the vast grounds of the Malfoy Estate. It had, of course, passed to him when his father died and anytime he wasn't busy worrying about his mother or his wife he was busy trying to organise everything his father had left. Lucius had been involved in a lot of shady dealings and if Draco wanted Hermione back he knew he would have to tidy up the Malfoy image. Draco laughed bitterly. He was so whipped. He was changing years of history and tradition to please a house-elf loving, muggle-born wife who didn't even know if she loved him or not.

"Why bother?" Draco asked to the night. An owl hooted in the distance. Flashes of memory danced before his eyes; Hermione cradled in his arms, sleeping, a small smile playing across her face, her laughing at something he had said, her being restrained by Voldemort as she tried to lash out at him, her battling fiercely in the last battle, bloodied and bruised fighting for what she believed in.

Draco threw his glass against the nearest wall.

"Damn bitch!" he growled. "She's back to her mudblood ways, so why the hell do I still love her?"

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"We didn't mean to spring everything on you," Mrs Weasley apologised as Hermione helped her changed the sheets in Percy's old room.

"Don't be silly Mrs Weasley, I was just a bit overwhelmed. Still trying to get my head around everything."

Mrs Weasley smiled kindly at her and patter her shoulder on the way out of the room.

Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Why don't you have a shower and come down when you're ready."

Hermione smiled gratefully at her suggestion and gathered up her things.

She locked the bathroom door behind her and quickly stripped off her clothing and stood in front of the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she removed the wig that covered her nearly bald head. It was something she hadn't expected. To lose her hair. When she thought of magical cure she didn't think there would be any muggle side effects but apparently the potions she had to take worked in a similar way to chemo and as a result she had lost her hair and was now left with a fine fuzz covering her head. She didn't look that bad but she didn't want to upset anyone so she had taken to wearing a wig and using a glamour on her eyebrows. She ran her hand over her head and sighed to her reflection before turning on the shower and stepping into the scolding water. Soon her thoughts turned to Draco. She could tell he was getting frustrated with her. She could tell he was frustrated with himself. He hated that he loved her. When he was with her he was sweet and caring and loving. Everything you would expect from an ideal husband but Narcissa had come to visit her a few times on her own and from what she reported Draco hated that he had become a simpering fool for her. Narcissa didn't doubt that he loved Hermione but she knew her son, he could be spiteful when he wanted to be and wouldn't wait around for forever for Hermione to make up her mind.

She turned off the water and wrapped a towel around her. There was a knock at the door.

"It's Ginny, I really need to speak to you. Can I come in?" Ginny called through the door.

Hermione glanced between her reflection, her wig and the door before sighing and unlocking it, letting Ginny in.

"Okay, the thing is I have to go back to school to...mor…row," Ginny trailed off as her eyes lifted to Hermione's bald head. "Oh Hermione. What happened to your hair?"

Hermione ran a hand subconsciously over the fuzz and started towards her wig. Ginny grabbed Hermione's hand and held it in her own.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Ginny asked, tears forming in her eyes and spilling over onto her cheeks.

Hermione hadn't once cried over the loss of her wild mane until that very moment.

"I didn't want you to do this. It's only hair," she said, giving Ginny a watering smile. "It'll grow back."

"I know it will, it's just a shock. All your beautiful hair, gone." Ginny reached out tentatively and ran her hand over Hermione's head. For the second time that day Hermione burst into tears.

"Oh, Hermione, don't cry. You look beautiful with or without hair. If I cut all my hair off I would look like a boy."

Hermione composed herself enough to speak while tears still made tracks down her face.

"That's not the only thing Gin. I – I didn't want to say anything. It's not the thing you discuss with large groups of people. The cancer was so far spread if I had gone to a muggle hospital I would have been dead by now. When they told me I would be fine I thought that meant they would just remove the cancer magically but apparently they can't do that. Magic helps but its mostly still muggle medicine." She stepped away from Ginny and let her towel fall to her waist, revealing her flat chest. Two horizontal scars ran across the space where her breasts used to be.

"They had to remove everything. I don't feel like a woman anymore, Gin. Who will want me now?" she asked, crying into Ginny's shoulder as they younger girl enveloped her in a crushing embrace.

They moved so they were sitting on the edge of the bathtub and Hermione readjusted the towel around her chest.

"Is that why you won't go back to Draco? Because you don't think he will still want you?" Ginny asked, wiping away her own tears.

"No, yes, I don't know. That's part of the reason. I'm unsure of my feelings for him still. I don't want to go to him, unsure of myself and have him laugh at me and make fun of me. I couldn't handle it."

Ginny smiled at her kindly.

"Hermione, anyone can see that boy is in love with you. I know he did some bad things during the war and I know he wasn't always the best of people but he's trying. I don't think he would ever reject you because of this. He's not the unfeeling bastard we all thought he was," Ginny laughed.

Hermione chuckled slightly too.

"I should just talk to him, right? I've been avoiding him, dancing around really talking about what's going on between us. I should just lay it all out on the table and see what he thinks," Hermione nodded her head, confirming her plan to herself.

"Sounds like a plan," Ginny said, nodding also.

"Wait, what did you want to talk to me about?" Hermione said, stopping Ginny on her way out the door.

"It's alright; you already helped me make up my mind."

Hermione smiled at her, confused, as Ginny grinned back and ducked out of the door. She poked her head back in a moment later.

"I'm going to spend the night with Harry." She winked cheekily and laughed at Hermione's shocked expression before shutting the door behind her again.

"Well at least someone is happy," she said to her reflection, getting dressed and putting her wig back on. "Unlike Draco and I, they deserve it."

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**A/N If you haven't noticed already just becuase Draco loves her doesn't mean he's all sunshine and rainbows now. I mean he is Draco Malfoy. **


	2. How are you feeling?

**A/N I forgot to thank Evelyn's Journey (did I spell that right?) for looking over the first chapter for me. **

**I'm looking for a beta for this story. I know there is the directory but I would rather have someone who has read the first one to point out any gaping holes in my plot that I may not realise.**

**Sorry it's been a little while but the plot bug bit me and I was working on other stories. I didn't want to give you guys a half-arsed chapter so I hope you didnt mind waiting...**

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**Disclaimer:� I do not own Harry Potter etc.**

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_Last time:� Hermione returns to the Burrow, no closer to figuring out how she feels about Draco. Draco loves her and wants her back but at the same time he hates that he loves her. Hermione has lost her hair and breasts but has an appointment to grow them back..._

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Hermione stared nervously at her reflection. When she had confided in Mrs Weasley about her hair after dinner, the Weasley matriarch had immediately taken out 100 Beauty Potions, and together they had whipped up a hair growth potion. 

Hermione ran her fingers through her much shorter hair. Well, shorter then her wig. It settled around her shoulders, flicking and curling in a pretty way. She wore a long flowing sleeveless dress with the padded bra the nurses had given her until she could have her consultation with the reconstructive Healer. It was the outfit she had bought the day before and never got the chance to wear. She and Draco were going to have a picnic dinner in the garden and she wanted to look pretty for him. She hated to admit it, especially to herself, but she was still trying to convince herself that she was in love with her husband. She had to be. The Ministry didn't grant divorces. She frowned at her reflection and adjusted the bra. She knew that this time next week it wouldn't matter because she'd have her new breasts but until then she was very self-conscious about it. Just as she slipped on her sandals, there was a knock on her door. 

"Draco's here for you, Hermione," Harry said through the door. He sounded glum. After the yelling match that had occurred between Ron and Harry that morning when Ron had found his sister and best friend in bed together, Mrs Weasley had immediately sent Ginny back to school and Harry had been locked in his room with Mr Weasley for an hour. Ron had spent the rest of the morning sulking in Hermione's room while she played with different styles for her hair. Harry had gone to Diagon Alley, returned with a ring and had spent the afternoon despondently helping Mrs Weasley in the kitchen. She was preparing a veritable feast for Hermione and Draco. 

"Come in for a moment, Harry," she requested. 

She smiled kindly at him as he shuffled into the room. Apparently saving the world won't save you from the wrath of your girlfriend's parents when they catch you in bed together. 

"They're just shocked. Ginny is their only daughter. But you didn't do anything wrong; she's of age and you are both mature consenting adults." She took his chin and forced him to look up at her. "I know that you love her."

Harry face broke out into a goofy grin. 

"Yeah, I do."

Hermione laughed, "Then stop beating yourself up about it. Don't let everyone else's anger take away from something that was really special to you and Ginny." 

"Thanks, Hermione. You're just what I needed." He embraced her warmly, absently noticing she no longer smelled of books and parchment the way she used to. "Now go on downstairs, your husband is waiting."

Harry made a face as if he had tasted a lemon when he said 'husband' but, for Hermione, he was trying. He had really missed her. 

Hermione made her way down the creaky old stairs to the living room where Draco was casually lounging in one of the armchairs, waiting for her.

He stood up slowly when he saw her. He took in her shorter hair and frowned slightly. 

Hermione watched him anxiously for his reaction. When he frowned, she did too.

"You don't like it," she stated flatly. He crossed to her and ran his hand gently through the silky curls. 

"It's not that, I'm just used to seeing you with your wild curls. These ones are so tamed. Before, your hair was proof to the rest of the world that there was some craziness in you. Now you just look like everyone else."

Hermione laughed in relief, her cheeks pink. 

"Maybe I want to be like everyone else for a change," she said mysteriously.

He continued to pout and run his hands gently through her hair, breathing in the soft flowery scent of it. 

Hermione smiled up at him and laughed at the look on his face; that of a petulant child. 

"You can't always get your way, Draco. Think of it as now, only you know my crazy side."

He gave her a light kiss. "Fine." 

She led him to the couch he had just vacated and they sat, a little awkwardly. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, tucking a curl behind her ear. "You look beautiful."

"Even with my hair?" she joked. She fluffed it with her fingers. 

"Don't be cute and don't avoid my questions," Draco said seriously, giving her a reproving look. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," she said honestly. 

"We don't have to go out tonight; we can just stay in here."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, walking the fifty feet to the orchard is going to kill me." She laughed harder when Draco continued to frown at her. 

"Don't be so serious," she chided. "I'm fine, the doctors said I'm completing healthy. I'm not going to break."

"But you did, you did break." Draco suddenly buried his head in Hermione's stomach and she stroked his hair. "What if you break again and I can't put you back together?"

"Draco…"

He pushed her away suddenly and smoothed his hair back in place. 

"Draco?" Hermione questioned. 

Behind her, she heard someone cough gently. She turned to see Mrs Wesley standing there with a picnic basket and a blanket for them. Her cheeks were pink and she smiled happily at the couple. 

"Thanks, Mrs Weasley," Hermione said as she got up from the couch. She reached for the basket but Draco swooped in and took it. 

They bid the practically glowing woman farewell and headed out towards the orchard, through the garden. Draco followed behind Hermione, taking in the natural beauty of the surrounding area. The simplicity of it all. The complete opposite to Malfoy Manor. 

When the reached what seemed like the very centre of the orchard Hermione indicated a small clearing, not much bigger then the blanket itself. He took said blanket off Hermione, which he then unfolded, and spread out, placing the basket in the middle. 

"Dinner is served," he said grandly gesturing to their 'table'.

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Hermione laughed as Draco missed another strawberry.

"Open your mouth wider," she instructed. 

"Okay, go," Draco said, his mouth wide. 

Hermione laughed when he cursed as the strawberry hit his nose.

"You're hopeless," Hermione giggled. "It's not that hard; watch." She threw the strawberry up in the air, deftly catching it in her mouth. 

Draco snatched away the remaining strawberries and started lobbing them at her. She caught every single one, giggling maniacally the whole time.

"It's just you, you can't do it. How did you manage to be seeker and not ever be able to catch food in your mouth?"

She giggled some more when Draco continued to just lie there and sulk. She grabbed a strawberry and ran it gently along his lips. He ignored her. She ran the strawberry against her own lips and took a bite. She smirked at Draco's eyes stayed transfixed on her lips, watching as her tongue darted out to capture a drop of juice clinging to her bottom lip. 

"You shouldn't do that," Draco whispered. 

"Do what?" Hermione asked innocently. She leaned down and placed a gentle kiss against Draco's lips. All he could taste was strawberries. "That?" 

"No, not that." Draco shook his head, smiling at her confusion. "I'm too used to you using sex to get what you want for your lustful glances to affect me. It's the loving ones that kill me."

Hermione sat up abruptly and Draco copied her.

"I wish you wouldn't say things like that to me. That girl, that woman that you married, that shared your bed; that is not who I am Draco. If I … look at you … If I look at you lustfully, it's because I want to be with you, I want to be intimate with you. I'm not being vindictive or manipulative." Her voice caught in her throat and she took a second to compose herself. "I'm just being me."

Draco reached out to run his fingers down her arm but she shrugged him off and stood. 

"Until you can see the difference between me and her I don't think that either of us is really ready to love each other." Hermione forced herself to look down at him, look him in the eye. "I think you should leave." He sighed and stood up also. 

He took something from his pocket; Hermione saw the diamond flash in the moonlight. 

"Maybe I'm not the only one who needs to realise just who exactly it is standing in front of them."

He placed what she realised were her wedding and engagement rings in the nook of a nearby tree and with a soft crack he was gone. She sighed and retrieved them, sitting back down on the blanket. She held the rings up to the moonlight, watching, as the diamond seemed to glow. She turned the band around and read the inscription, more from memory then actual sight. 

Do ut facias. I give so that you may do. 

In her mind's eye, she read what she had given Draco, do ut des, I give so that you may give.

When their mothers had suggested inscriptions on the wedding bands both her and Draco had laughed at the idea. But after some thought and research she had come up with do ut des for her to give to him and do ut facias for him to give to her. At the time, for their situation it had seemed perfect but now, nearly six months later it seemed hopeless. She took off the simple gold chain Draco had given her for Christmas, not long after they were married and slipped the rings onto them. She hung it back around her neck, the gold shining dully between where her breasts should have been. With a flick of her wand, the picnic had repacked itself. Charming the basket to levitate behind her she set off back for the Burrow.

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A week later found Hermione again in the orchard, minus the food and Draco's warmth. In fact if you looked for Hermione any time during that week you could usually find her in the orchard. She turned her head and drew her wand as she heard footsteps approach but once she caught his scent on the wind, she lowered it again and relaxed back into the tree. 

"Potter said you would be here," he said, sitting down beside her. 

"Yep," was all she said. She had nothing more to say. 

Draco sighed and relaxed against the tree beside her. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her. Her hair was half tied up and the curls that remained free, danced in the wind. Her eyes were tired and she was looking thinner then ever. Thinner even then when she was at her sickest in the hospital. The thin camisole she wore hung off her and her jeans were baggy and loose. She reminded him of his mother, the way he could feel her bones on the rare occasions that she allowed him to embrace her. She always felt like nothing but twigs and Draco wondered if he hugged Hermione would her body give him the same feeling that he was about to snap it. Her arms, her legs, everything about her looked awkward and clumsy. Her face was all harsh angles and her chest looked flat…

"Hermione, what – what happened to your breasts?"

She looked down as if surprised to see that yes, they were still gone. 

"What breasts?" she said bitterly. She knew it was just the medication she was on, medication that she could stop after tomorrow's appointment but right now, she was depressed and angry.

"Exactly," Draco said. He gently unfolded her stubborn arms and slipped the loose straps of her shirt down her shoulders. 

The cool wind caressed her bare chest and Draco was lost for words. He reached out to stroke one scar but hesitated and pulled his hand back. 

"They'll grow back," Hermione whispered. She refused to look at him, instead choosing to stare through the rows of trees. They were all lined up perfectly. Every row and every column, like a little chess board. She had always wondered why every second tree was an orange tree and now she realised that maybe that was the desired affect. Orange, apple, orange, apple. 

"Look at me," Draco demanded. 

"No." Her voice was calm, clear. She had dealt with this. She had. She didn't need a man's approval. They'll be back tomorrow. She didn't need anymore tears. 

"I'm so ashamed," she wept. 

"Hermione, look at me." 

She finally turned her head to him and looked him straight in the eyes. If he was going to reject her, she wanted it done quick, a sharp blade to the heart. 

"You know that I hate loving you right?" Draco asked. Hermione nodded. She knew. She reminded herself of that everyday, waiting for an owl from Draco telling her he's come to his senses and he wants to separate. "I hate the fact that I lay awake every night and wish you were beside me. I hate when people I once considered close friends use the word mudblood and I hate that I hate it."

Hermione smiled despite her tears and held her breath anxious to hear what point he was going to make. 

"I hate that right now, your face red and teary, your body too thin and your breasts cut off like some sort of archaic punishment you are still the most sexy, beautiful and attractive woman I have ever laid eyes on." 

Hermione giggled at Draco's expression; he looked disgusted with himself.

"If you ever tell anyone that, I'll chain you to my bed and keep you locked there for a month," Draco told her, drawing on his mother's suggestion for inspiration. 

Hermione just laughed.

"All that will prove is that you love me so much you can't stand to be apart from me."

"I can't promise that I want to shout my love from the mountaintops but I will love you and protect you Hermione."

"You said that before, Draco." Hermione hated to think it but she couldn't help herself Draco had said before that he would protect her and he had failed miserably. She pulled her shirt up, covering her chest and went to get up. He stopped her and pressed his lips against her. At first, it was just that; lips. However, soon the kiss was passionate and exploring. Lips followed hands as they moved over soft skin. 

Under the moonlight, Draco carefully removed his wife's pants, his eyes devouring the site of her once perfect body ravaged by depression and disease. 

"Let me make you healthy," he begged as she ripped off his shirt. "Allow me to help you."

She paused in unbuckling his belt and looked up at him. 

"Can we not? Can you just kiss me tonight and tomorrow we'll worry about that?" Draco nodded and soon they both lay naked under the orange tree, their bodies flowing over each other as they moved together. Bodies that, at first seemed unfamiliar, still fit together perfectly and when they connected, it was as if nothing had ever changed. 

He kissed her breasts and stroked her hair and Hermione lay blissfully content; that she had once deceived the world, her friends and her enemies, the knowledge that she was once sick, happily forgotten.

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**A/N Ta-dah! Did you enjoy it? Remember, I'm looking for a beat-reader. And reviews are love. Haha, hate that saying, but its true. I should say nice reviews are love, harsh reviews are like hot blades to my heart!�**�

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	3. No Comment

**A/N Sorry about the wait...**

_Last time..._

_Hermione and Draco reunited in the orchard, but she is still living at the Burrow. She is no longer sick, though has lost a lot of weight and isn't eating right. Draco is becoming frustrated that she won't come home. Narcissa is having trouble dealing with killing her husband and as a result she, too, isn't eating much. _

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Hermione growled angrily and joined the rest of the Weasleys plus Harry at the kitchen table. She scowled as the front page of the paper stared happily at her. On the front page was a picture of her and Draco eating at a muggle restaurant. They had been celebrating, so to speak, her new breasts and it had taken her nearly an hour to convince him to go to a muggle restaurant. She thought they would be safe there, away from the wizard reporters so intent on getting the truth behind her and Draco's marriage. The image on the paper was taken just after Draco had learned that they would have to wait twenty minutes for their meals, unlike the ones at wizard restaurants, where five minutes was consider a long wait. He had a dirty look on his face and was gesturing angrily down the road in the general direction of the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley. The accompanying article wove a story of an abusive pureblood Draco ashamed that his muggle born wife would disgrace him by bringing him to a muggle restaurant. It went on to suggest a separation was imminent and a source close to the couple was quoted as saying that he hardly came and saw her in the hospital during her recent stay. It was also alleged that Narcissa had warned Hermione to stay away from her son and that she was no longer happy with the union, now that Hermione had shown her true colours. That Narcissa had killed her own husband for the greater good was conveniently forgotten.

Arthur, who was reading the paper, quickly put it away when he noticed Hermione at the table.

"Utter rubbish," he muttered and smiled reassuringly at her. Hermione forced a smile back and stood again to help Molly dish out dinner. The older witch smiled at Hermione, grateful for the help.

She was surprised when Draco and Hermione had returned from the night in the orchard a week ago obviously in love, but neither had mentioned Hermione moving back the manor. Molly knew that he would have her back with him in an instant if Hermione let him but she was stubbornly digging her heels in, determined to have a bit of independence and time to herself before she recommitted herself to a relationship with Draco.

"You alright, Hermione?" Ron asked, picking up on her mood. He had learned to detect the slightest change of mood in her after years of being yelled at. He might not have always paid attention to his brain screaming at him not to bother her, but he was, at least, always aware.

"I'm just frustrated. I went to three job interviews today and all of them, every single on informed me that Mr Malfoy had put out a general notice that no one was to hire his wife as she was still recuperating after her illness. They all wanted me, they just couldn't have me."

"Oh, I'm sorry dear," Mrs Weasley said, laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Hermione shot her a grateful smile for her silent support. "Perhaps you can talk to him about it."

Harry and Ron both snorted.

"What's so funny boys?" Mrs Weasley asked looking between the two boys, giggling like four year-olds.

"She's not going to 'talk to him about it.' She's going to tear him a new one." Harry and Ron dissolved into laughter at Ron's explanation. Hermione managed an amused sigh that her best friends were so excited about her husband getting a verbal lashing.

The next morning Hermione awoke to yet another headline, this one speculating pregnancy. Word had gotten out the Draco didn't want his frail and fragile wife working and had demanded that no one hire her. Thoughts of abuse and control were forgotten, replaced with a caring and loving Draco, simply looking out for the mother of his unborn child.

Hermione cried out in frustration and threw the paper into the fireplace were it crackled and burned until all that was left was a smouldering pile of ash.

"Nothing interesting in the paper this morning?" Harry asked, taking a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Don't be cute with me Harry Potter, I'm not in the mood."

Grabbing a piece of toast Harry shot out of the line of fire and out the back door.

Mrs Weasley bustled around her kitchen, making breakfast, all the while keeping an eye on Hermione out of the corner of her eye. People came and went, eating their breakfast and then heading off to work. And still Hermione sat there, pushing her food around. Mrs Weasley's brows furrowed together. The poor girl was so thin and frail she worried that if she didn't start eating soon and putting some more weight on she would be back in hospital.

"Why don't we go shopping?" Mrs Weasley suggested when everyone was gone and the kitchen was clean. Hermione raised her head, her interest piqued.

"I do need some new clothes," Hermione said, growing more and more interested. "Everything is falling off me and I uh, need some new undergarments." She gestured to her new, bouncy chest. "They're bigger then they used to be."

In a rare show of the girl she used to be, Mrs Weasley giggled and in a matter of minutes, the pair were ready to go.

They moved from store to store, starting in Diagon Alley. Hermione happily spent Draco's money, purchasing new clothes, books, gifts for everyone and anyone she could think of. The theory behind the spending was that if Draco wouldn't let her have a job, it stood to reason that the only money she had to spend was his. And spend it she did. The woman collapsed into a table at the Leaky Cauldron at lunchtime. Once they ordered, they quickly shrunk away all their packages into two neat little bags for them to carry over to Hogsmeade. Mrs Weasley kept Hermione talking all through lunch and before she even realised what she had done, Hermione's plate was cleared and for the first time in months, her stomach was full.

"Hogsmeade?" the older woman suggested and they were off again. They had just finished up at their first shop, the apocathary when the first one approached her as they were crossing the street.

"Mrs Malfoy, any comment about this mornings report? Are you pregnant?" the reported questioned. Hermione stopped to stare at the little man, disgusted. He was a short, balding little man. A little goatee of black tufty hair stuck out from his chin and Hermione resited the urge to yank on it.

"Not that it is anyone's business but our own, but no, Draco and I are not expecting our first child."

Hermione continued on, her head held high and naively convinced she'd seen the last of the reporter.

When she exited the next shop, there were three reporters waiting for her.

"Do you feel guilty after deceiving now only your friends, but your husband as well?"

Hermione tried to ignore him.

"Did you seek out the Malfoy heir as part of your plan or had you always harboured a secret longing for the pureblood?"

"'Harboured a secret longing?' Who are you, Danielle Steel?" Hermione mocked the reporter; the other two laughed.

The reporter, embarrassed, lashed out verbally. "Being a muggleborn, what is your position on the archaic traditions and rituals still performed by extremist pureblood families?"

"No comment," Hermione said. Mrs Weasley watched on anxiously, not sure whether to intervene or not. The reporters, seven of them now, had circled around Hermione, preventing her from leaving without force.

"Well what do you have to say to the rumour circulating that Blaise Zabini loved you and you two were having a secret affair?" the newest arrival asked.

"Couldn't have been too secret," Hermione joked. She attempted to push through but they held steady.

"What do you say to rumours that it was Mr Malfoy, himself, that organised the meetings between you and Mr Zabini? And that its not a Malfoy heir you carry, but a Zabini one?"

"I don't know what you are talking about or where you get your information from but my husband and I are very happy, though we are not currently expecting a child, any extra edition to our family would be a welcome blessing. Blaise and I were friends and though I miss him dearly, we were nothing more. I have no further comments. Now if you please, I'm trying to have a relaxing day out. I'm sure your editors and the public would love to hear how you were harassing a woman only a few weeks out of hospital."

The next morning a story ran in the Daily Prophet about how Hermione and Draco were having trouble conceiving a much-desired child. Another publication told of Hermione's heartbreak over the death of a beloved lover. Another featured and article about the sex parities, quoting Hermione's 'no comment' and taking it to mean that though she didn't admit to attending them, she didn't deny it either. Which was exactly right, but there was something about seeing it in print…

Hermione rolled her eyes and again pitched the paper into the fireplace.

"Don't worry, I didn't want to read that," Harry said from next to Hermione. He had been reading over her shoulder and was beginning to find the whole thing amusing, selfishly happy the spotlight wasn't on him for once. He regretted his blasé attitude as Hermione turned on him.

"Oh, you're loving this aren't you?" she demanded. "The Boy-Who-Lived gets a break and you don't care that its at the expense of your sickly friend!"

"Oh come on, Hermione, don't be like that." Harry watched, nonplussed, as Hermione grabbed her cloak and stalked out the door.

"I'm going out!"

Hermione stomped through the yard and out through the gates and the wards. With a quick look around, she turned on the spot and Apparated to the Manor. She was desperate to speak to Draco. Surely, he could put a stop to all these ridiculous articles. Wasn't he always claiming that his family had more connections then any other pureblood family?

"Hermione!" Narcissa called when she spotted the young woman storming angrily up the path to the front door.

Hermione turned to see Narcissa seated under a tree, a magnificent breakfast spread out before her, a house elf standing not too far away.

The elegant older woman beckoned her over and Hermione was obligated to attend her.

Hermione grumbled to herself as she made her way across to lawn to Narcissa, wishing she had dressed more nicely.

Narcissa gestured to the house elf to conjure another chair for Hermione and to set her a place. Hermione smiled graciously and took a seat, glaring at the stack of newspapers and magazine sitting on the table. Narcissa followed her gaze and laughed lightly.

"You and Draco are the same. We had planned to dine together but he took one look at those," she lazily waved her hand over the articles, "and went to get some people fired."

Hermione smiled tightly, she was still angry and couldn't quite see it as funny just yet.

"But never mind," Narcissa continued as the house-elf dished out some breakfast for Hermione. "We can have a girls' morning."

Hermione didn't fell much like eating but some company would be nice, and seeing as how Draco wasn't even here, she smiled to her mother-in-law and made a show of eating some eggs.

Hermione hoped they would move onto trivial topics like the grounds or the weather or something equally flippant but Narcissa wasn't yet finished with the articles. The one regarding Blaise seemed to be of particular interest to her.

"It was funny they picked Blaise of all people to attach to you," she said, watching her daughter-in-laws reaction closely. Though her eyes stayed blank, a muscle in her jaw ticked.

Hermione remained quiet for a moment. Should she talk to someone about it? Draco already knew, so it wasn't as if Narcissa could rat her out. But she didn't want the woman to hate her. Cautiously, Hermione proceeded.

"Have you ever been with another man, besides Lucius?"

Narcissa looked down at her still full plate, pushing the food around. She put down her fork and folder her hands in her lap.

"I'm sure you know that before I was a Malfoy, I was a Black. Two noble, pureblood families. Our match was, of course, arranged. I was brought up the perfect pureblood daughter, with the proper coming out, of course. I was married to Lucius two months after graduation and I assumed my title and my position with dignity and grace. But I hated it. I hated him. I envied Bella her love match and I even envied Dromeda. She had been disowned, brought shame on our parents, but she was happy. I don't think she even cared." Narcissa paused for a moment as memories of the past washed over her and for a moment she wondered if Tonks and Narcissa had ever even met. Narcissa shook her head and Hermione waited patiently for her to continue.

She cleared her throat and continued, "I did everything that was asked of me. For five years I went to every party, every event. I slept with the men my husband told me to and I did it with a smile on my face. I think Lucius did like me those first few years, though there wasn't much of a relationship to speak of.

"When it was decided by our parents that it was time to produce an heir, I stood up to him. The first time ever. And the last, until… well, yes. I told him, I would not have my body being used like a common whore if I were to carry the Malfoy heir. I deserved respect. He slapped me, told me I would do what I was told." Narcissa laughed then, a soft smile on her face. "I sent him flying twenty feet across the ballroom. I used a spell Andromeda had taught me, many years before. I think Sirius taught her. They were always close. Do they still talk?" Narcissa queried.

"Occasionally, I think. Her daughter, Dora, dates Sirius' friend, Remus Lupin and they're quite friendly."

"Oh." Narcissa nodded her head.

"What happened when you hexed him?" Hermione prodded gently.

Narcissa laughed again. "When he woke up in St. Mungos three days later, he respected me. But he angry, too. He conceded that I didn't need to go to any more after-parties, but he said if I ever defied him again, those parties would seem like heaven compared to the hell he would put me through."

Hermione gasped.

"Don't get me wrong, Lucius was a dangerous man, not to be trifled with, but he had that charm-"

"The Malfoy Charm," Hermione said with a knowing smile. "You may hate them, but you can't help but love them too."

Together, the women laughed.

"No, you can't. And I did, one year later, by the time my son was born, I loved him. And he loved me." Narcissa's eyes glazed over as she again went walking through her memories. Hermione left her to her quiet moment and put her head back, watching the sun as it playfully danced through the leaves in the trees over her head. She kept her eyes averted as Narcissa began again. "We were happy, the three of us those first few years of Draco's life, I think. You-Know-Who had just vanished and _somehow_ Lucius had kept himself out of jail. But where I hated those awful partied, Lucius loved them. Everyone knew I never participated but they were still expected to give up their wives. Both our parents had passed and Lucius had inherited everything and wielded a considerable amount of power.

"I knew it wasn't me. That he wasn't trying to get away from me. It was just what you did and he had fun doing it. But it hurt all the same. I remember one night Severus had stopped by to drop something off, some potion or something." Narcissa swallowed and Hermione chanced a look at her, but she was looking at something only she could see. "Lucius was at another party, someone silly and unimportant, but he never did need much of an excuse. I asked Severus if he wanted to stay for tea and though he hesitated, he accepted. Though I wasn't attracted to him, I was lonely, so lonely. Draco was in bed, put there by the nannies and I was once again alone. I – I remember I touched his shoulder; asked if he wanted some brandy or Firewhisky. He grabbed my hand and asked me what I was doing. He wasn't angry, just curious. I waned to. I wanted to hurt Lucius as he hurt me but at the same time I loved him and I couldn't do that to him. I apologised to Severus and asked him to leave. He's a good man. He did, with no dramatic airs or harsh words, just left. Never mentioned it again.

"I loved my husband and I knew he loved me but what we had was never great, passionate affair; I accepted that and moved on. I dedicated my life to my son. I fired the nannies and raised him myself. Taught him good values, to be faithful, to respect woman, to put your family and the people you love first, above all others. He was still a pureblood, but he at least had a heart. Lucius was so busy trying to beat him into manhood, he didn't even see that Draco was already there."

Hermione frowned at this; the Draco she knew in school wasn't exactly filled with heartfelt sentiments.

"I know what you're thinking," Narcissa said, her turn to smile knowingly. "But school and teenage years are trying on anyone. By that age Lucius was taking an interest in Draco and he was desperate to please his father. But then he married you and it seemed all those lessons I taught were finally being put to use." She smiled at Hermione before her expression turned serious. "So to answer your question, yes, I was with other men. Did I cheat or have an affair? No, I simply did as I was told. Can you say the same?"

* * *

**If you're thinking that I didn't mention anything about her killing her husband, there's a reason for that, she'll talk about it at another time...**

So did you like it? Did you like the backstory I gave them?

The next chapter will feature flash backs, and will hopefully explain more about Blaise and Hermione's relationship.


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